


Quenching

by whowhatsitwhich



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, drabbly sort of drabble, i want it so i'm writing it, no smut smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-15
Updated: 2019-05-15
Packaged: 2020-03-05 17:03:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18832939
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whowhatsitwhich/pseuds/whowhatsitwhich
Summary: There was much to be said but no words worthy to express everything left unsaid between them. This was better. Cleaner. Straight forward. Her eyes on him as he touched her. What could compare to that?





	Quenching

**Author's Note:**

  * For [jeeno2](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jeeno2/gifts).



> I wrote a thing. Yay!

_quench: to put out the light or fire; to cool (something, such as heated metal) suddenly by immersion (as in oil or water); to cause to lose heat or warmth_  

The room was cool but that didn’t stop her from slipping out of her last few layers and letting them fall to the floor, leaving her bare before him. As those too blue eyes traced her lines from head to heel, goose bumps and warmth followed in their wake. Her blood frothed as it raced through her veins, an uneasy torrent hurried along by the agonizing rise of his hand to her cheek.  

“Are you sure?” 

“Would I be here if I wasn’t?”

Words ran out after that. There was much to be said but no words worthy to express everything left unsaid between them. This was better. Cleaner. Straight forward. Her eyes on him as he touched her. What could compare to that? 

She felt like he was reforming and remaking her as his hands slid over her body. She was the metal; he was the forge. His breath on her cheek the life giving blast that the flames within her needed. Her heart slamming against her ribs in an inexorable rhythm…the hammer stroke that rose and fell at his whim… fluttering, stuttering, leaping.  His hard angles against her slim curves…the anvil that shaped this moment into something inexplicable. 

They fit together like puzzle pieces. 

His mouth found hers as they moved…a softly sweet exchange of pressure and air. It followed a drop of sweat down the slope of her cheek to the long length of her neck as she canted her head back to give him access. A low moan escaped her when he lingered on the pulse point, nipping and licking and sucking at the trembling skin.

“Gendry”  

Two syllable and yet they seemed infinite when uttered in that way by her. Her. Her. Her. Everything became her…Arya…her face, her sounds, the way she moved…stretching and turning into his slightest touch. Blood and bone and sinew. 

His back hit the bed as she rolled them, hungry mouth and impatient hands taking over. She felt him smile into their kiss and laughed at how unexpected all this was. Happy…she was happy. She was with him and they were here and she was giddy at the thought. Never did she ever think they would end up like this. She hadn’t even hoped for it. Hope was for songs and stories. 

It built, wave on wave, wound tight. Coiled and curled as it took them closer to that edge. She couldn’t keep her eyes open any longer. Wrapped herself around him. Listened to his incoherent mutters in her ear. Gods. Her name. Please oh please oh please. 

Then the world went white around her and she fell. She flew. She broke. And again again again. 

Time and place and self came creeping back. His weight pressed her into the mattress as he caught his breath. Their eyes caught and held…wondering, questioning, hoping. 

“Welcome home,” he whispered. 

Arya quirked a brow and then laughed again at how unthinkable this was just a short time ago. She gave him the answer to the question he hadn’t brought himself to ask her yet….”I love you too.” 


End file.
